


peas

by lucigucci



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci
Summary: (peas by boylife)Julian was certain if he blushed any more he would explode out. All he could do was stammer something along the lines of “I can do it” and begin the arduous process of unbuttoning his shirt. Asra could play this game of cat and mouse all night if Julian let him (he would). He knew all the subtle ways to secure Julian’s fascination, pull him into a sticky sweet trap, and then push him out with an impolite shove to begin the game all over again.But tonight was somehow different. There was a different look in Asra’s eyes-- no, the anxiety wasn’t a facade, even the affection wasn’t quite a facade, because as much as Julian didn’t understand Asra, he always knew when Asra was putting up a front.Tonight, Asra was… here.No distant look in his eyes. No brushing away. It was like one of Julian’s dreams come true.
Relationships: Asra & Julian Devorak, Asra/Julian Devorak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	peas

Rain came down in icy torrents, not just showering over Julian Devorak but soaking through his coat and dripping around his mask. He had only had-- what, two bitters when he stopped at the Raven? Why the hell did he feel so dizzy? Where was he going, stumbling through the streets of Vesuvia, hardly caring to look and hardly caring to think? Ah, but here, through the haze, he recognized a door, set between two dim windows.

A new clear thought sliced through his brain-- get in. He would be safe there. Safe from what, he couldn’t quite say, but safe nonetheless. He paused on the doorstep, swaying a little. The rain continued to beat down. Could rain leave bruises? He hoped so. Wracking his thoughts, the image of a very wide window around the back came into focus, one that was very easy to break into, and so he shifted around to begin his shambling way down the back alley.

All of a sudden, there was a waft of spiced air, a burst of light that Julian recoiled from. Someone tugged him backward into the heat and slammed a door behind him.

Julian blinked a few times, unbelieving. “-- scare someone with that mask. The masquerade isn’t for a couple weeks, you know.” Someone tried to pry the beaked mask away and at once his wet gloves scrabbled at the backs of their hands to stop them. Useless. The mask lifted off his face and, again, he winced and screwed up his face in the golden light.

“Look at me. Ilya, look at me.”

Only one person said his name like that. Only one person made his heart want to jump out of his chest whenever they addressed him. His eyes flew open, lowering and landing on the figure in front of him.

“What happened? You look terrible,” Asra remarked. His ethereal features were clenched into concern and just the thought that he might really be worried was more than Julian could bear. 

Julian took a shaky breath in, out, useless. “I-- A-asra-- I d-didn’t--”

“Come upstairs, I’ll dry you off before you pass out.” Asra took him by the wrist and all but dragged him through the shop, sopping rainwater as he went, and up the stairs one step at a time. All the while, his eyes never left Julian’s face. When Julian reached the landing he said, “I haven’t seen you for days. I thought Valdemar had you trapped under the palace.”

“T-they did,” Julian managed.

Asra guided him to sit on the floor by the stove. Now that he was so close to heat, Julian realized just how cold he was, and felt a bout of shivers ripple through his limbs. “How did you get out?” Asra inquired. He straightened up to tap a few times on the stove so the fire roared on his command.

“I-- daily c-check in with Lucio-- snuck out the b-back--”

“Mm. Are they looking for you?”

Julian observed the floor instead. “Dunno,” he mumbled.

“Faust!” Asra called over his shoulder. Julian switched his attention to the bed, where Faust was curled up on one of the many pillows littering the mattress. She perked her head up at the sound of her name. “Would you please bring us a towel from the bathroom?”

She flicked her tongue out, which maybe meant yes, before uncoiling and slithering down the side of the bed and down the hall.

“Do you want something hot to drink, Ilya? We need to warm you from the inside and the out.”

“Oh-- uh--” Julian glanced up into Asra’s expectant face. The magician’s cheeks reflected the dancing firelight and his eyes were bright with worry. When was the last time Julian had seen Asra worried, really worried like this? “C-coffee, if that’s, er, alright, p-please.”

“I’m not making you coffee. The bags under your eyes could carry groceries for a family of four. I’ll make something herbal and bitter, so you can sleep tonight.”

Asra was just turning away to check the cabinet when Julian burst out, “I can’t sleep!”

“What do you mean?”

Julian fidgeted by the fireside. He was making a puddle on the hardwood floor and it was very embarrassing-- not to mention how awkward he felt inviting himself over to Asra’s place as a guest for tea. “If I sleep, I-- I can’t work,” he muttered, avoiding Asra’s inquisitive eyes, “and if I c-can’t work, I’m-- useless.”

“Ilya--”

“And when I do sleep, I see things, Asra, I-- I see people-- things-- in the dark, and they g-grab me and cut me open and--”

“Ilya.” Two blissfully warm hands cupped his icy cheeks and forced his gaze forward. No, Julian was certain now, he had never seen Asra so distressed.

_And you caused it. Useless, good-for-nothing, plague-ridden, repulsive--_

“The nightmares will go away,” Asra told him. “Nightmares always do. They are travelling spectres, incorporeal phantoms, they can’t hurt you. You must take care of yourself and pay them no mind. Do you understand?”

Julian bit his lip and nodded.

Asra sighed. He released Julian’s face so he could get up again and resume his tea-making. “Rosehip,” he remarked.

“Er-- p-pardon?”

“That’s the main component of the tea I’m making. Is that alright with you?”

 _Is that alright with you?_ Why was he asking? Asra could serve him a teacup of boiled mud and he wouldn’t complain. “Y-yeah, that’s-- thank you.”

A gentle nudge at his side caused him to look down. Faust had returned, lugging a fluffy pink towel that looked a little too big for her to carry. “Ah-- well, thank you too, little lady,” Julian added. Faust poked her tongue out at him and curled up once again, this time next to his leg, a little too close for comfort.

“Take your clothes off,” Asra ordered. Even though it wasn’t meant to be sexual Julian flushed red.

“I-- I’ll be f-fine,” he tried to argue, but Asra shot him an amused glare that shut him up. He proceeded to peel his gloves away first.

“The blend I’m using has raspberry leaves too,” Asra mused. He placed a kettle on top of the stove. “In medicinal terms, it should steady your heart rate. You really do enjoy making me worry, don’t you, doctor?”

Julian froze. “Not at all,” he replied.

“Is that so?” Asra chuckled. He turned back to Julian, standing over him, watching with a thoughtful gaze as though observing a docile housepet. Damn those eyes. Those eyes could drown him in violet and he’d love it. Julian’s stare dragged downward, peering around the sheer fabric of Asra’s sleeping shirt, lingering in the bronze hollow of his neck. 

He had to stop himself from going lower with a loud cough. “Er-- how did you know I was outside?”

“You’re supposed to be taking your clothes off, Ilya.”

Julian let out a very fake and very wobbly laugh. “R-right. Sorry.” He was so keenly aware of Asra watching him shed his gloves, and when he tried to undo the buttons on his coat, his fingers trembled so bad from apprehension and cold it was impossible to make any kind of progress.

In one fluid movement, Asra was at eye level with him, smirking. “Do you need my help?” he inquired.

The doctor swallowed. “Y-yes please.”

“Then ask me.”

Julian lowered his hands from his neck to steady himself on the ground. “I-- Asra, please-- please help me with these?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Asra purred, reaching out and undoing the buttons with ridiculous ease. He must be aware of the pounding in Julian’s chest, the blood rushing in his ears, his pupils dilated to alarming size, or he wouldn’t look so smug. Julian couldn’t delude himself. Asra always, always knew everything. The magician’s hands slipped under his coat to pull it away from his shoulders, and it pooled in a black and red mess, wet as a second skin, around him. Asra inched away to sit at his feet to take one boot in both his hands. “I’m sure you’re soaked through,” he remarked.

All Julian could do was nod.

_He’s so close. Grab him. Hold him tight. Never let him leave._

“What happened after you left the palace?” Asra began to unlace the boot with methodical delicacy, entrancing eyes fixed once more on Julian’s face.

“Ah. I-- the Raven. I had just enough for a few drinks.” When Asra’s eyebrows shot up, Julian remedied this statement. “A few, only a few, really! It… wasn’t enough. So when I ran out of money, I-- I left. I was just… stumbling around in the storm for a while. Thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

_The way your hair looks like a cumulus cloud on a sunny day. The way you smell like cooking spices and tea leaves and worn clothes. The way I fantasize about you every time my eyes close. The way you’ll never want me the way I want you._

“Work… you know. Valdemar has been-- ah, how do I put this-- much more demanding as of late,” Julian answered.

Asra tugged his boot off his foot with an understanding groan. “I despise them,” he grumbled, now attempting to peel Julian’s sock away, stuck to his skin from the water.

“They aren’t that bad-- at least, not when they have a cadaver to entertain them.”

“I don’t know how you can work with them. All that talk of death and torture and plague makes me… urgh. To top it off, everytime I see them, they look like they want to eat me.” Asra moved on to Julian’s other foot. Against his better judgement, Julian was beginning to relax. “Back to the subject at hand. Why did you come here? You have an apartment in the south end, don’t you?”

Oh no. “I-- yes, I do, but I-- like I said, I wasn’t in my right mind. I wasn’t even sure where I was going.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

 _Oh no._ Julian tried to smile. “Not very long ago. I had a wonderful nap on one of the operating tables, quite comfortable, more than you’d--”

“I’m going to ask one more time, and only one more time,” Asra interrupted, repeating his words slower as though Julian was a child, “when was the last time you slept?”

The doctor fixed his eyes on the floor. “Must be… a little over four days now,” he mumbled.

He heard Asra sigh again as his other sock was tossed aside. “You can’t expect to cure your patients if you can’t cure yourself. Four days is far too long-- no wonder you couldn’t think straight!” The floorboards creaked as Asra crawled forward between his legs, and the air caught in Julian’s throat just at the thought of it. He clenched his eyes closed. Asra’s breaths were warm on his cheek, reminding him once again of how corpse-cold he was. “I want to take care of you tonight, Ilya,” Asra murmured. “What do you want me to do?”

“Y-you’ve done enough, I promise.”

“No. You’re always the one looking after me, and in doing so, you neglect yourself. If you won’t keep yourself safe, someone should.”

Julian allowed his eyes to open and meet Asra’s. And Asra was so beautiful. His statuesque nose, his caramel skin, his perfect perfect lips, beautiful.

Asra smiled and pressed his forehead to Julian’s in a gesture far too intimate for the doctor’s racing pulse to handle. “What do you want?” Asra asked softly.

“I want-- I want--”

The kettle whistled overhead. With a mischievous look in his eyes, Asra brushed his lips against Julian’s forehead as he stood, before stepping over the doctor to pour the tea into a painted ceramic mug. “You don’t take milk or honey,” Asra noted rather than inquired.

“Y-yes. No. I mean-- right, I don’t.”

“Can you take off your shirt, or do you need me to do that too?”

Julian was certain if he blushed any more he would explode out. All he could do was stammer something along the lines of “I can do it” and begin the arduous process of unbuttoning his shirt. Asra could play this game of cat and mouse all night if Julian let him (he would). He knew all the subtle ways to secure Julian’s fascination, pull him into a sticky sweet trap, and then push him out with an impolite shove to begin the game all over again.

But tonight was somehow different. There was a different look in Asra’s eyes-- no, the anxiety wasn’t a facade, even the affection wasn’t quite a facade, because as much as Julian didn’t understand Asra, he always knew when Asra was putting up a front.

Tonight, Asra was… here.

No distant look in his eyes. No brushing away. It was like one of Julian’s dreams come true.

Julian shrugged his shirt away, bathing in the warm light of the stove, watching his skin glisten from rainwater. “Do you want-- that is to say, should I take my pants off too?”

“Yes, pants off too,” Asra chuckled.

Was Asra really going to stare at him the whole time he undressed? Asra held the fresh made cup of tea in both hands, waiting for Julian to finish his task before offering it with an innocent expectant smile. Julian fumbled with the buttons on his pants now. Careful not to disturb the slumbering Faust by his side, he untangled himself from his pants, slipping around on the hardwood floor, setting them aside in a sopping pile. Asra bent down. “Very good,” he praised, and gave Julian the mug.

Julian took a hesitant sip. True to Asra’s word, it was hot and bitter. Perfect. “Asra, why are you doing all of this for me?” he asked. “N-not that I don’t like it, or don’t appreciate it-- but I just showed up outside your door, and you had no obligation to help me. And you aren’t-- well, I didn’t think that we were--” He trailed off, useless as ever.

“We were what?” Asra knelt between his legs and reached for the towel to begin drying him off, starting with his hands and arms.

“Er-- no, forget it, I… I just thought…”

“I thought we were friends,” Asra teased. “I suppose if we’re enemies, that makes this situation a lot stranger.”

“We are friends! I meant-- I meant that-- I just didn’t know… what kind of friends.”

Asra’s grin widened. “I wasn’t aware there were different species of friends.”

Julian groaned, allowing himself a smile as well. “You know what I mean. I wasn’t sure if we were at... _that point_.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. We are, after all, work associates when you cut down to the hard facts, as you so often love to do.” To contrast this point, he sat up to massage the towel into Julian’s hair. Julian’s eyes fell closed in the dark softness of the towel. “But… you trust me, don’t you, Ilya?” Asra paused his ministrations. “That’s why you came… isn’t it?”

“I’m… not sure… why I came here. I shouldn’t even be here. You could be happy and asleep right now if I had just left you alone.”

“Then you don’t trust me?” The towel folded up so Julian had no choice but to open his eyes. Asra looked so serious, it would be heartless of him not to answer.

“I would do anything for you,” Julian whispered.

“Then I want you to trust me.”

“I-- Asra, why?”

Asra brought a hand down to cup Julian’s cheek. Warm met warm in perfect harmony. “Tell me you trust me, Ilya. Tell me you’ll believe me when I tell you I want what’s best for you.”

He was so close, so tender, it must be a fever dream. And in dreams, Julian noted, there were no consequences. He had the courage at last to set his mug down and wrap his arms around Asra’s waist-- and he delighted in the surprise written across his face. “I trust you,” he said.

“Then tell me what I can do to make you whole tonight.”

Whole. How odd that Julian had felt so incomplete for months now, and how apt that term was. But now, reality seeped back in, and Julian realized his hopeless situation. He would have to settle or he would be disappointed. “I-- I’d like-- can I stay the night?” he stammered.

“Yes, of course.”

Asra waited for Julian to elaborate, so Julian fished around in his thoughts for something remotely innocent. “And-- er, if you didn’t tell Valdemar about this-- or Lucio, for that matter-- I would appreciate it.”

“You have my word.”

“And one more thing, just one more thing, I-- please don’t make me go to sleep tonight.”

Asra’s eyebrows furrowed at once. “Is this about the nightmares?”

Juilan shook his head, muttering, “no-- well, yes, but not really. I just…” He swallowed his feelings and at last confessed, “I want to be awake… I want to pass the time here, with you… and you don’t have to stay up, really, I’ll be fine staying up on my own-- but knowing that I’m safe, and close to you, it would make me…” And he’s said too much. He clamped his lips together before he could let anything else escape.

The towel was removed from his hair. Asra brushed a few stray curls off his forehead, contemplating Julian’s words. “I can keep the nightmares at bay if you stay close,” he offered.

“Y-you can?”

“I just need to keep physical contact with you as you sleep to maintain the protection, if you’re alright with that.”

“Yes!” Julian yelped, a little too excited. “Please! I-- I would like that!”

Asra smiled. “Then come to bed.”

Gods, those words. Julian couldn’t even conceal the beginning of his erection through his underwear and it maddened him. Did Asra know? Yes, of course Asra knew, because Asra knew everything, he was just pretending not to know to make Julian feel comfortable.

Asra stood up from the floor, taking Julian’s hands with him, so he could tug Julian to the bed and sit him down. Julian half-hoped Asra might tuck him under the blankets and entwine their limbs together and kiss his doubts away, but of course this didn’t happen, because instead Asra instructed him to get under the covers and sit up on the pillows. The blankets, as Julian expected, were soft and worn and smelled of Asra. “I want you to finish this,” Asra told him, handing him the steaming mug of tea. “It’ll flush the alcohol out of your body and help you sleep.”

“Ah-- right. Yes. I will.”

Asra perched on the side of the mattress to watch Julian drink. Meanwhile, Faust wound her way up the bed once more to settle at Julian’s feet, in a way that reminded Julian of an empathetic dog. Asra ran a finger across her back. The dumbest pang of jealousy in the history of jealousy clenched Julian’s stomach. “I’ve seen you, you know,” Asra said quietly.

“Er-- what?”

“I’ve seen you watching me. I’ve noticed you following, just far enough behind so you wouldn’t be suspected of anything. I even found a sketch you did of me.”

All at once, Julian’s heart fell. He thought he had been discreet. Now Asra was going to think he was some creepy older guy stalking the new magical recruit. He opened his mouth to start some kind of response, any kind of response, but Asra silenced him with a hand in the air. “For months now,” he continued without a shred of mercy, watching Julian squirm and twitch. “Even when my apprentice was alive. Yes, I noticed, Ilya, but I never said anything, because I thought that it was a passing fancy, and you might regain your senses and get over me.”

“I can’t,” Julian croaked.

“I know. I… I know very well now.”

“Then what happens now?”

“Now…?” Asra stared him down for a moment, then got up on the bed and prowled forward, balancing on all fours until he was a mere breath away from Julian’s face. “Ilya, I… I think I want you too. I’ve denied it for so long but… something changed when I saw you tonight. I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe.” He bowed his head to nuzzle into Julian’s neck, and Julian, the touch-starved stray, always eager to please, moaned at the sensation. “But… I want to take things slow. I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Julian hushed, setting his tea aside once more to enfold Asra in his arms, tighter this time, desperate to keep him there. “I could never leave you, not for anything.”

“It isn’t that… that’s the problem. I don’t want to take what I want from you and leave you when I find someone new.”

It made Julian’s heart race even more just to think of it. “You could use me, hurt me, take me, leave me, however you’d like,” he implored, “I’d do anything to make you happy-- say the word, Asra, and I’ll do anything, I’ll leave Vesuvia with you, I’ll come when you call, I’ll slit my own throat--”

Asra looked up into Julian’s face, stern now, and Julian quailed. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ilya. If that’s really what you want, you will need to find someone else to give it to you.” His face shifted once more into uncertainty. “Let’s just… take things slow. Pretend there’s no plague, like we have all the time in the world to spend how we please. That way, if something happens… it won’t be… as bad.” Asra avoided Julian’s eyes, and all of a sudden, Julian felt a heavy weight press in around him. There was something Asra wasn’t confessing.

“Asra, is there-- is there something bothering you?”

“Ah-- no, no!” Asra rearranged his features into winsome affection and pressed his body against Julian’s. Everywhere they touched, Julian’s skin buzzed with happiness. “No… Ilya, don’t think anymore,” Asra muttered into his skin, now crawling under the blankets, tangling his legs with Julian’s, and running featherlight fingers up and down Julian’s torso. “I’ll keep you safe. Let yourself go… just for tonight, my dearest…”

Julian nearly gasped at those last two words. Again, he pulled Asra flush to his body before he could escape, tight and secure, and buried his face in those angelic curls of hair. Half of him longed to tilt Asra’s chin up and engulf him in a kiss, the other half didn’t dare to risk losing his new prize. For now he remained content to drink in Asra’s presence here.

“Close your eyes,” Asra crooned against his skin.

“I want… to stay awake…”

“Now, whatever happened to doing anything to make me happy? Close your eyes for me, Ilya.”

Julian chuckled and obeyed. Love was everywhere, everything, sweet and intoxicating, and it felt just like Asra. He was safe. And, yes, he slept.


End file.
